


I Don't Know What to Say

by Lionna Mouri (Scifiroots)



Category: YuYu Hakusho
Genre: Cutting, Dark, Dark Character, Gen, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Triggers, ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-26
Updated: 2002-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-08 17:18:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scifiroots/pseuds/Lionna%20Mouri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thus this blossomed and a depressive hospital story was born.<br/> Content: songfic, Kurama POV, AU, angst, depression - SI and attempted suicide, shonen-ai<br/>Typical disclaimers apply. "My Guitar Lies Bleeding in my Arms" is by Bon Jovi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Know What to Say

**Author's Note:**

> 01-06-02 finally finished editing 02-26-02

 

_//Misery likes company, I like the way that sounds_

_I've been trying to find the meaning, so I can write it down\\\_

 

You see, I've been sitting here so long that it's hard to remember if there was anything else before this. I'm not here because I want to be. No, I've never wanted to be this way, to be so dead... so... alone. But they trapped me here, those who say they love me, they trap me here... and I have nothing left to do but stare endlessly.

 

_//Staring out the window, it's such a long way down_

_I'd like to jump, but I'm afraid to hit the ground\\\_

 

They put me far up, and from this window I can see a good portion of the grounds outside. They want me outside, but my _friend_ managed to talk them out of it. I heard him whisper to the others that it was too dangerous to let the plants be so near to me. That doesn't matter, there is ivy on the walls.

 

The bars distorting my view would be no problem. I'm so skinny at this point but I have my strength and with little trouble I could break them. I could be free to fly... just leap into the air and go back to my old routines. It would be so easy... yet I'm scared.

 

_//I can't write a love song the way I feel today_

_I can't sing no song of hope, I got nothing to say\\\_

 

Lunch comes and they pull me from my chair and prod me into walking down the halls to the dining hall with only "safe" spoons to eat with. I guess I'm harmless because they stick me between the people that rouse up the others and bring out the fights. I've seen one or two of them looking at me, appearing almost intimidated. I still wonder how that can be, my aura must be dead at this point, and I know there are many others here that are just as dead as I am. How could I be a threat?

 

Worthless music plays from above, coming from caged speakers where scattered slippers of patients clung on. Someone actually has paper at the table and I watch him blindly, seeing the scrawl of his hand with a crayon, the only writing utensil they'd ever allow on this floor. I'd like some paper. But what would I do? Certainly not write, because that would be opening up, and I couldn't let them see what lay inside. Draw? Who knows where they'd send me after that.

 

_//Life is feeling kind of strange, since you went away_

_I sing this song to wherever you are,_

_As my guitar lies bleeding in my arms\\\_

 

I'm allowed back in my room and I sit there again, staring at the window dully, watching that one tree. You were there the first time they took me here. From there you looked so hopeful and caring, it had given me some faith, especially when you told me that you would come at all possible times. You'd make sure I wasn't bored or wouldn't slip farther away from them all - from _you_.

 

You never came back. I don't care anymore why. But everything changed when you failed to return within a week. I know you, you could have gotten here the next day if you wanted. But you don't want to. Why would a perfectly healthy youkai want to deal with a demented human?

 

I'm a fool, but I continue to wait for you. I used to sing a song to call you here, but you never heard. So I let my voice die, it has no use anymore. What should I care about what happens to it?

 

_//I'm tired of watching TV, it makes me want to scream_

_Outside the world is burning, man it's so hard to believe\\\_

 

Our "entertainment" here provided by the staff is boring and fluffed up. They don't want any harmful thoughts getting in the way of our already messed up minds. The real fun comes from the fights and arguments or lessons between patients. We all have our quirks and ways of speaking. I used to watch them, and I actually enjoyed it, but when I ended up locked in a solitary room for a week I ended up at this window and watched Yuusuke run out of the compound. The light of his attack would follow, and you would all be fighting. Without me. I guess I am worthless. I should have died when that hunter shot Youko... why would the youkai want to live?

 

_// Each day you know you're dying from the cradle to the grave_

_I get so numb sometimes, that I can't feel the pain \\\_

 

At this time I have no strength left for Youko. I have only a few select plants to call on - the ivy along the building's outside will be my main use if I ever want it. What I loved were the de-thorned roses that they used to place on the windowsill. Who sent them, I don't know or care. I just liked them. Because I regrew their thorns to remind myself of my old battles with a rose whip. 

 

I tended to tear them apart, petal-by-petal, thorn-by-thorn, the leaves, and the stem... Still I received new ones. It was a small blessing. I spoiled that privilege, however, when I was too lost one day and let the thorns seduce me, letting them make love to my deathly body and destroy my outside. Everyone was so baffled as to how it happened. If I could have reacted I would have laughed outright.

 

_//I can't write a love song the way I feel today_

_I can't sing no song of hope, I got nothing to say\\\_

 

No more distractions, only the window and an empty tree. Guess nothing really matters anymore. Even my thoughts are fading. Far more than three-quarters of my time is spent in oblivion . It's interesting, and partially restful. I hope death is like that. Funny, I've dealt with Reikai for so long but I still don't know what death is like.

 

_//Life is feeling kind of strange, since you went away_

_I sing this song to wherever you are,_

_As my guitar lies bleeding in my arms\\\_

 

Someone took over my body today. That was very interesting. I can't remember much what happened, but I can recall all the frightened faces of the nurses and the various stares of other patients. They strapped me to the bed and gave me medication. They left. When will they ever know medication never works on me? I lay here, awake and looking like Inari knows what sort of freak... but I sing to you... or try to. I lip the words to the ceiling:

 

"Oceans apart, day after day, and I slowly go insane, I hear your voice on the line, but it doesn't stop the pain, if I see you next to never, how can we say forever? Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will be right here waiting for you..."

 

_//Staring at the paper, I don't know what to write_

_I'll have my last cigarette - well, turn out the lights\\\_

 

I was actually in the lounge. Another odd occurrence. I had forgotten why I liked that place. People were so forgetful and left various amounts of a cigarettes and forgotten matchboxes. Those were so much fun to play with. I palmed everything I could and went to my room again for the night. They left me alone - again having faith in their pitiful medicine. I lit two stubs and used them over my heart, stabbing them until they were useless, the others I hid to use later. I have my plan lain out. I'll end this, somehow.

 

_//Maybe tomorrow I'll feel a different way_

_But here is my delusion, I don't know what to say_

_I can't write a love song the way I feel today_

_I can't sing no song of hope, I got nothing to say\\\_

 

I'm getting visitors tomorrow and I'm supposed to work up strength today to see them all. So many are visiting? Why? ‘Kaasan has been the only one that comes lately. Otousan is always away, I don't think he cares at all. Shuichi-kun comes here with ‘kaasan when he can bear it; and I would like to help him and reassure him, but I hate _me_ too much to even give that piece of hope for myself. I see Yuusuke from time to time, even Kuwabara. Once I saw you in the background, but then you were gone. Guess you don't care at all. Not that I ever thought you really did.

 

They nearly force the food down my throat during my meals. I'm watched over during naps that were scheduled. Something is off, of course, but my curiosity is not piqued.

 

_//And I can't fight the feelings, that are burning in my veins_

_I send this song to wherever you are,_

_As my guitar lies bleeding_ \\\

 

They visited. What I delightful visit. From so many. ‘Kaasan greeted me and talked through her usual updates, avoiding my eyes as she painfully smiled. She left to take care of Shuichi-kun and leave my 'friends' with me for privacy. Surprise of all surprises, you were there. 

 

The humans were showing their nervousness like they always have and managed a few pieces of news before they fell silent. Everything said went in one ear and out the other, if it went in at all. You were looking distressed, funny. 

 

Kaasan returned, with Shuichi-kun and the doctor with her. I didn't even blink. I was only aware that my doctor had seated himself immediately before me on the coffee table. His voice was slow and clear and his eyes locked on my distant ones. This time the words came to my brain and stayed long enough for processing.

 

"We are going to transfer you to another, better hospital. There is a specialist who will take care of you and make sure you can get better." For whom? Myself? I don't want to be better. Only _they_ want me better. I don't care. I never cared. "Now it might take some adjusting but you should do just fine."

 

There were other things he said, but nothing that I can remember at this point. In the end I have no choice in the matter. Why bother to tell me? It doesn't mean anything....

 

_//I can't write a love song the way I feel today\\\_

 

It doesn't mean anything because I won't be here.

 

_//I can't sing no song of hope, There's no one left to save_

_And I can't fight the feelings, buried in my brains\\\_

 

In my room I lay still and feign sleep until the nurses have all holed up at their station. From my hiding spot I slip out the cigarettes and matches. I play for a while, seeing if I can feel any pain at all before I give into nothingness. It doesn't do anything, but it is fascinating to watch my skin peel and char away from my chest. I have the urge to dig my fingers in, to try and touch my heart itself, see if it's still there. I can't feel my pulse anymore, does that prove I'm officially dead? Doesn't mean there should be any guilt. I've been dead too long, and there has been no one to save me. 

 

_//I send this song to wherever you are,\\\_

 

I decided earlier to make something romantic of my death. Outside I call the ivy to remove the windowpanes and take out the bars. It is only with their help that I make it to the window ledge. Looking down, I see how little the drop is. Disappointing, but I don't feel like jumping anyway. No, instead I'll make it slow, but effective. 

 

I smile, I don't know if it's gleeful or bitter, all I know is that it will be over soon. It will be over and I don't have to worry about emotions ever coming back. Because I don't have to care anybody, I only have to hate. I hate me with all my being.

 

_//As my guitar lies bleeding in my arms\\\_

 

Hate me... hate me... My vines secure my wrists, even though I doubt I have any reflexes at this point. I feel some others creeping over my collarbones and around my throat. My smile widens and I push off, feeling the wind rush by my face and through my hair. It ends so quickly and I am left here, hanging, hardly feeling the hold about my neck. It is a bit blurry, though...

 

_//As my guitar lies bleeding in my arms\\\_

 

Either my imagination is playing with me in these last moments or for some bizarre reason it is all real: I see this small shadow-figure coming through the trees. You're ascending that one I've been looking at for so long. I don't think you have seen me. It makes it all the more ironic. Ah, you come so late, so very, very late and I don't even care. You have waited far too long. 

 

You see me, I feel your eyes burn me. No, I will never let you free me from this one choice of mine. I call upon the last of my reserves to finish me off quickly so I will not have to see your eyes full of nothingness. I'm gone before I can go any farther, I get to die.

 

_//As my guitar lies bleeding in my arms\\\_

 

I open my eyes.

 

I **_open_** my **_eyes_**.

 

Because I'm alive.

 

Beside me you stand, staring down at the hand that you are stroking. I can't feel your touch, but I've always wanted to. There's a doctor, somewhere, droning. Why did you save me? Why would you ever want to save me?

 

You look at me but none of my anger can show. Damn you. I'll cooperate, only to learn how to express my hatred... only to let you know just how much I'm damaged now that you've rescued me.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s notes and explanations:  
> Why’d I’d write another depression story? Well, I guess at the time I was hateful again. Anyway, I needed an unusual song for a fic and lo and behold I realized that one of my favorite Bon Jovi songs could be used. Yeah, Kurama as my target. I need a human (nope to Youko, Karasu, Kuronue, and Yomi!) and neither Kuwa nor Yuusuke could fit the bill. (I’m still not used to the girls.) Thus this blossomed and a depressive hospital story was born.
> 
> Let me know that any descriptions of the hospital are from my perception of the settings described in The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, I Never Promised You A Rose Garden by Hannah Green, and the little bit described in Destiny of Souls by Christopher Rice. Another book I could recommend on a “mentally ill” patient would be Patricia McCormick’s (right?) Cut, which is about a teenage cutter. Was actually quite good. Anyway, just wanted to clear that up. Whew!


End file.
